


Oh Unholy Night!

by OvTheLaurels



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: F/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 01:09:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17571437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OvTheLaurels/pseuds/OvTheLaurels
Summary: It is the eve of the Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year. You are a very devoted Sister of Sin, slipping out into the dark night to express your devotion to your faith. Little do you know that your Satan prayers will be answered in more ways than one!





	Oh Unholy Night!

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me, this is my first post. Any feedback is welcome!  
> This was influenced by some choir music I heard back around the holidays. Sorry it's a little late, but I thought you all may enjoy it anyway!

PART I

The woods are silent. My ears are deafened by it except for the soft crunch of my boots through the frosted underbrush. My candle flickers as I walk, my hand cupped around the flame to protect it from extinguishing in the bitter night. I truly don’t need the light to find my way, as I have walked this path daily for the past month in preparation. My candle is there for me to meditate on; a glowing reminder of the darkest night of the year. 

Despite the beautiful Yule service and the rituals preparing for it all month, I found my most deep connection to Him in the silence of the wood. It was cleansing and centering, allowing me to shut off all the extraneous noise and distractions of The Abbey. The constant murmur of gossip and hushed whispers have been very interrupting...and disheartening. The upheaval among the Clergy as to who would be taking Papa III’s place cast a dark shadow over my favorite time of year. No other sons of Papa Nihil were bore after him, and there was great controversy as to what would happen next. After every cycle of years, a new Papa would take the stand as the main leader under Papa Zero. Everything was upside down, and the drama made me question if the Church was the best place for me to be right now. I won’t deny my broken heart over the stepping down of Emeritus III, since he was my Papa when I joined just a few years ago. But this is the nature of the hierarchy, and what was to come was to come. So, the woods granted me clarity. 

Like other nights, I make my way to the edge of the forest in back of The Abbey, overlooking the outstretched fields and valley beyond. Appropriately a full moon fills the sky, the Cold Moon. The beams electrify my surroundings with a brilliant gossamer. As I walk, I deliberately take purposeful steps to stay mindful. I replay all that has happened in the past year, both good and bad, reflecting on what I could do in the new year to better improve myself and help others in the name of Satan. I picture all of all the smiling faces of my Clergy, brothers and sisters in Sin. I begin to smile to myself thinking of my elders; the painted visages of my Papas and the stern but motherly Sister Imperator. As I approach the edge of the trees, I return my concentration to the flickering candle in my hand and what it represents. My light is here to keep vigil, a symbol of my own spirit in this mortal world. 

When I finally reach my favorite spot, I pull out the rolled buckskin I had tied to my tunic and place it on the ground, facing the valley. I sit with my legs folded under me and pull my cloak close to my body to keep myself warm. I place the candle in front of me and take a deep breath, watching the mist disappear into the icy night. I speak out loud in a quiet voice, not wanting to catch the attention of anyone who happened to step outside. I was about a third of a mile from the Abbey with the protective cover of the forest, but I wasn’t about to be interrupted. Sister Imperator had a strict curfew for us Sisters, and I was breaking a rule that few dared to test. 

“Satanas, I am here in the Garden of Knowledge. Hear my prayer.” I lift my hands up to the sky.  
“On this long night of darkness, I stand ever vigilant. As You are the Morning Star, let me be a light through the darkness in this world.”

Cracks of snapping twigs behind me pull me out of my meditation. I peer around the hood of my cloak, but only darkness swallows the woods behind me. I wait about 30 seconds, holding my breath and listening. Nothing. I brush it off as a woodland creature or an old branch falling under the weight of the ice. 

I take another deep breath and gaze into the night sky, regaining my concentration. I can see a light flurry start to flutter in the sky, swooping and gliding among the stars. I grasp the candle and hold it to my breast and whisper the Satan Prayer into the dark night. “Believe in one God do we. Satan almighty. The uncreator of heaven and soil…”

I finish my prayer and observe the flame of the candle dancing before me. I start to feel a deep pool of peace flow into my chest, my soul even. I clutch my grucifix and press it to my heart, feeling the pumping of my blood below, as though they are one. I pull my Unholy Rosary from my belt and begin the rhythm of prayers, as I focus on the flame. My mind goes blank. The repetition of the words keeps a hypnotic rhythm, drawing me into a semi-conscious meditative state.

Imagining the energy of the Dark Lord entering my heart and mind, I slip deeper into myself. I imagine Satan himself before me; his arms open and kind eyes smiling down at me. I can almost feel his embrace and his energy flowing into me. I let out a gasp and drop my rosary. I feel his hands running up and down my body, filling me with intense euphoria. I’m electrified! My body begins to writhe and my emotions bubble up through my chest. I feel an overwhelming urge to sing welling up inside of me. It’s the only way I can express the waves of satanic bliss coursing through my veins. A song from my past begins to float from my lips…

“Oh Holy Night, the stars are brightly shining, this is the night of our dear savior’s birth…”  
I try to keep my volume low, but it becomes impossible to control. I pray no one hears me, as I would not only breaking my curfew, but also rules regarding christian music.   
I sing the last lines of the song, clutching my candle and holding it close, “Oh night divine!”.

Ringing silence once more. I catch my breath and wipe sweat from my temples. I can’t help but notice that my whole body is vibrating with energy and my spirit is light. I feel as though I had just ran a race and surprisingly...turned on. I can feel my nipples rubbing against the cotton of my tunic, sending waves of arousal down my body. I had only read about divine ecstasy, never thinking I would ever experience it. I gently fondle myself for a few moments, sighing out loud, relishing in the intensity. The thought that Lucifer himself brought me nearly to orgasm draws my hand between my legs. I squeeze my eyes shut and throw my head back, fantasizing about His touch. As the energy dissipates, I begin to feel relaxation wash over me and I recenter myself. 

Once again I place the candle in front of me and lift my hands to the sky, “Lucifer, Morning Star, My Dark Lord, please forgive my choice of song. I was moved by you in the moment. Grant me the honor of being by your side during this dark night and forever always. Pour your unholy spirit into me like a chalice, and I shall quench the thirst of the world with kindness, empathy, creativity, and knowledge.”

“And so you shall dearest Sister,” a familiar voice hisses behind me. I jump up and spin around in the direction of the voice, my heart pounding in my ears.  
“Papa?!?” I squeak, clutching my cloak to my chest. There he stands only a few feet away, enveloped in the dark night.

PART II

My mind goes blank, reeling in shock. I blink a few times and swallow, trying to regain my bearings. The disbelief doesn’t last long and a tidal wave of reality hits me. Not only has Papa Emeritus the Third himself caught me breaking curfew, but a whole laundry list of serious rules. How long had he been standing there? What did he see? I feel panic welling up in my chest, spilling over into my frantic brain. 

I immediately fall to my knees and clasp my hands in front of my face. “Papa...oh Papa please forgive me! ” My voice begins to crack and my throat feels like sandpaper. I can feel hot tears welling up in my eyes. I can’t bring myself to look up at him. I try to stay as stoic as possible, but I can feel a burning lump caught in my throat. I hear his footsteps approach me, my eyes still squeezed shut, too afraid to witness his wrath and disappointment. 

“Sister, there is no need to beg for forgiveness,” I hear him say calmly, now standing directly over me.   
I take a deep breath and open my eyes. I blink my tears away, allowing him to come into focus. The only other time I was this close to Papa was during my unholy communion, which was already a few years ago. We had interacted since, but in a very formal way. A nod and a bow from across the courtyard, a few moments of eye contact during services, but I had mostly admired from afar. Now to my horror he looms above me, likely judging me for my transgressions and constructing an appropriate punishment. My eyes timidly rise to his face. I feel a rush of fear and excitement when his eyes lock with mine. His powerful, spectral image thrills me, but also fills me with immediate shame and apprehension. It suddenly occurs to me he could take this to Papa Nihil and I would be cast out, de-veiled even! 

I can’t hold back my emotions anymore. The thought of being sent away fills me with uncontrollable despair. I fall completely onto my hands and knees and grasp onto the base of his cloak, sobbing. “Please Papa Emeritus, please forgive my tresspasses. I know I’ve broken the rules...I beg you in the name of Lucifer! Please forgive me….please...please, don’t de-veil me!” 

“My goodness,” I hear him purr above me. “I don’t have any intention of de-veiling you. There is nothing you need to be forgiven for.”   
I pull my tear stained face from the hem of his cloak.   
“There isn’t? But I’ve broken-”  
“You have broken no rules under my observation, my dear Sister. My word is law.”  
I release my grasp, hesitantly taking in his assurances. His gaze is still intense, but his expression is soft. I slowly gather myself and stand.  
“Will you tell Sister Imperator? Or Papa Nihil?” I cautiously ask, nervously fingering my rosary.  
“I most certainly shall not,” he says matter of factly. “I have Fire keeping watch back at the Abbey to ensure no one is aware of our absence. He, like yourself finds deep connection in this sacred night and is viliglant with his own flame.” He nods behind me where I left my burning candle, now askew on my buckskin. 

I quickly walk over and pick up the flickering candle, preventing more wax from spilling onto the ground. Its warmth feels soothing in my freezing hands. I glance up at Papa and notice him quietly watching me.  
“Why have you followed me here? If...if I may ask.” I catch myself, wondering if I have overstepped my boundaries being so forward. Normally we keep our conversations with the higher Clergy quite formal.  
“I have been observing you for some time, Sister. I have noticed you have been sneaking off nearly every night this month.” He raises an eyebrow and folds his arms in front of his chest.  
“How?...How did you know?” I wonder reflexively out loud.   
“My chamber window faces the forest. Sleep often eludes me and my eye caught the glow of your lantern.” He winks his pale eye at me.   
“Oh,” I reply sheepishly, kicking myself for not traveling in the cover of complete darkness.   
“Well then! Why, pray Lucifer have you come here every night?” he questions, now impatiently tapping his folded arm with his leather clad fingertips.   
I am unsure how to reply to this. I hesitate to answer, trying to pull my thoughts together. 

“Tell your Papa the truth, Sister,” he demands sternly. He takes a step closer, now only a few feet separates us.   
I take a deep breath. “Papa, I am unhappy with the state of the Church, and I feel as though my studies have been disrupted. I sought peace in Satan’s sanctuary.” His face is like stone.   
“Hmmmm. Disrupted you say,” he replies, now tapping his index finger over his painted lips in thought. “Is it in regards to the upcoming Conclave?”  
“Yes, Papa.”   
He pauses a moment, visibly wincing at my answer. I note a flash of grief in his eyes. “I see…I’m very sorry to hear that it is causing so much turmoil. Unfortunately I have little control over that matter.” He continues to tap his finger to his lips and takes a few steps, turning his back to me. 

 

PART III

A few moments of silence pass and he turns towards me again. Tension begins to hang in the air around us and I am unsure how to break the awkward silence. I assume my personal ritual is over and I should begin to gather my things. I start to make my way over to my buckskin when he finally he clears his throat.   
“Truthfully, this is not the first time I have observed you, Sister. I have seen that you are one of the most faithful within your order. Satan blessed you with a demonically lovely voice that lifts us all during Ritual. Your enthusiasm for celebrating Him through music has not gone unnoticed.” He pauses for a moment, taking a step toward me. “You not only appear to have a very deep connection with the Dark Lord himself, but also with His unholy creations. I have watched you toil in the Abbey gardens for hours, praying as you work. Your harvest is always a deep pleasure to consume, especially knowing it was tended and nourished with the love of Satan.” 

I find myself speechless, completely taken aback by his statements. I had no idea I was noticed by anyone, especially by Emeritus the Third himself. I have done my best to follow my heart and my own path while devoting myself to the Church. In fact, I was somewhat of a black sheep among my sisters, not necessarily following the dionysian lifestyle that most felt was the path to Him. Many of my fellow sisters would do anything to catch the eye of one of the Papas and have certainly tried. Music and nature have been my gateways to the Dark Lord, pure and simple. “I am humbled by your compliments. My work is all for Him and the growth of the Church” I bow my head in respect. 

He takes two steps closer, now we are only about a foot apart. I begin to feel a little anxious, not knowing how to act so close to him, not knowing what was coming next.  
“I witnessed what just happened to you, your ecstacy. What a sight to behold.” A partial devious smile began to form on his face. His fiery gaze now directed into my eyes, causing my heart to quicken.   
I immediately feel sick to my stomach. “You saw...everything?” I say in a choked whisper.   
“Everything,” he states bluntly. I can feel hot shame blooming on my cheeks, and I avert my eyes from his. Never did I imagine my Papa would witness me in the throes of pleasure.   
“My dear, why are you blushing?” He coyly asks. “You know very well Satan himself encourages such behavior…I encourage this behavior.”

I am at a loss for words. I know he is correct. Lucifer teaches the freedom of the flesh and earthly desires. It’s a sacrament.   
“Forgive me Papa, but I express my Satan given desires in a private manner. It’s..It’s how I feel most comfortable.”   
“This too has not gone unnoticed.” He pauses a moment. “Your actions as well as your outward appearance are quite... different than your Sisters.”  
I think of the women in my order back at the Abbey. I am different, wearing a conservative habit, and sometimes even pants; the majority of my Sisters exposing their most attractive feminine attributes and openly acting upon their desires for other members of the clergy, especially the Papas. I suddenly feel self conscious, unsure how to react to his personal remark. But if Lucifer taught me anything, it is to be true to myself, no matter what that is, as long as in harms none. He did not question who He was when he fell to earth, and I stand by Him. 

I raise my head and take a deep breath. “I know. It’s who I am.”  
He blinks, obviously surprised at my reply. He stays silent and continues to gaze into me. I hold my breath, unsure of his response to my blunt answer. 

“Forgive my forwardness, Sister. The comment was not meant to be malicious. In fact, I find your confidence and dedication quite...enticing.” The devious smile returns to his face as he takes a few steps closer.   
I swallow hard. I am equally surprised, embarrassed, and thrilled. I can feel my cheeks burning.

“Sister, may I remove your veil?”   
My heart begins to pound. I pause, anxiety tugging knots in my chest.   
“Yes Papa, you may,” slips from my mouth before I can even think.  
He gently reaches out and folds the hood of my cloak over my shoulders. He gently slides the bobby pins at my temples and unclasps the veil, exposing my short, brown hair.   
I blink up at him, unsure what he will say.   
“You are so lovely, Sister. As natural as the day Satan created you.”   
“Thank you,” I reply quietly, unsure how to take such a compliment. I can feel my body start to quiver in excitement.   
He steps even closer, barely a few inches between us. The light scent of leather and incense mingle with night air, and I find myself getting lost in the depths of his pale eye.   
“May I touch you, lovely Sister of Sin?”   
“Yes.” I whisper, my breath completely caught. I can feel the beginnings of hot arousal tingle over my body. 

PART IV

He slides his left hand under my cloak and encircles my waist. His other hand extends up to my face, gently cradling it. The leather is soft and warm, and I reflexively lean into it. His thumb begins to trace my lower lip. He whispers a few inches from me; I can feel his soft breath on my cheek. “In the name of Satan, may I kiss you?” My heart is racing now.  
“Yes, Pa-” Before I can finish I can feel his mouth pressing hungrily at my own. Gentle yet deliberate, his embrace is filled with unquenched passion, desperately seeking out a way to cool the thirst. Our lips finally part for a moment and I gasp for breath, locking eyes once more. I gaze up at him, completely bewitched by his advances. The mist from our breath and a sudden squall creates an otherworldly veil between us and the darkness.  
In the moment, my own desire and curiosity overtakes me.   
“Papa, may I?” I lift my hand to his face tentatively.   
He blinks and gives an affirmative nod.   
I reach my hand up to his painted face and gently trace the lines of the skeletal imagery. I notice no residue on my fingers. It was always a mystery if our Papa’s faces were painted, tattooed, or something else entirely. Sister would call it a “mystery of faith”.

He pulls me closer into his clutches and coos, “It is paint, but it does not fade. Pro Memoria. This is our one life to live, and we will all someday meet Death. We as His disciples live in a world of reality with full knowledge of our inevitable demise.”   
His explanation gives me butterflies and fuels burning urges within me. I crane up to his face and gingerly touch my lips to his. I place my hand on his chest and feel his heart, also quick with excitement. He wraps his cloak around my body and presses me into him. Soon his soft kiss becomes more intimate and wet. I can feel his tongue starting to lap at my lips, wanting me to open up. I pull back and meet his gaze, a little unsure. My mind hesitates, but the throbbing between my legs tells me otherwise.  
“Drink me, eat me….” he purrs in a low growl, calling back to one of our prayers.   
“Then you’ll see the light,” I reply in a whisper. He strokes my cheek, then places his gloved thumb on my lower lip, gently opening my mouth. He leans in and kisses me deeply, gently inserting his tongue, allowing me to taste and feel him. I am overcome with lust and all my previous inhibitions drop. I paw at his chest and run my hands through his silky hair. I can feel that I am completely saturated. He suddenly pulls away, holding my face in his hands.  
“Join me in my chambers and we shall celebrate the darkest night of the year the way Satanas intended.” I nod in agreement, trying to catch my breath. 

I quickly gather my things while he takes my still burning candle and guards it to his chest. He grabs me by the hand and leads me through the dark forest. The full moon lights our way and makes everything shine, almost like daylight. A dusting of snow shimmers and flies around us as he pulls me to the edge of the wood. My mind races as we approach the Abbey. Who would have known my quiet meditation would become...this. I can see a soft light glowing from the last window on the highest floor. Soon, it flickers and disappears. Apprehension about waking the others sneaks into my brain and I suck in a nervous breath. Papa looks back at me and gives my hand a reassuring squeeze, feeling my tension.   
“Don’t worry, Sister. Fire has been watching for us. He will let us back in,” he smiles reassuringly. “ I too will catch heaven from Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil if they find me out of bed.” Once again he gives me a wink from his pale eye. 

We quickly but deftly approach the door to the Abbey. The judas window slides open momentarily and I hold my breath. A bright blue eye surrounded by silver peers through the opening. In a second, the window snaps shut and the sound of the lock clicks.

“Good evening. Glad to get you back safely.” The door completely opens, revealing Fire; a sizable gentleman, clad in his demonic attire. With sapphire eyes burning from behind his mask, he has always been a curious consort to Papa. “I will accompany you to your chambers if you desire.” He steps back and welcomes us into the warm vestibule with a wave of his arm.  
“No need Fire, you have done more than enough for me tonight,” Papa says reassuringly. “A joyous Solstice to you Brother in Lucifer.”   
“As to you, Papa.” Fire whispers with a bow.   
“Thank you.” Papa places his hand on his shoulder and gives a squeeze in solidarity. Oneness, trust, and selflessness are essential attributes of a Ghoul. They are the Papa’s most trusted advisers and friends. I give Fire a smile and an affirmative nod. His eyes smile back at me and returns the gesture, placing his hand over the grucifix on his chest. 

Papa once again takes my hand and guides me down corridor after corridor, all twisting and unfamiliar. After climbing a long set of steps, we finally we reach a hallway with 3 doors. My breath is taken away when I realize where I am. We tiptoe past Papa I and Papa II’s quarters, finally reaching Papa III’s door. He pats himself down, finding a single key in the left breast pocket of his cloak. With one click, the door opens and we slip inside. 

PART V

The chamber is cast in the glow of candles. Lavish decoration and unholy imagery completes the erie splendor. I stop short at the doorway and gaze around the seemingly endless room. A fireplace and a heavily curtained bed sit at its northern wall, an oak desk with an extensive library its west, a great window at its south, and a vast wardrobe at its eastern wall. I jump in surprise when see the unholy vestments draped on a mannequin, mistaking it for someone lurking in the darkness. I let out a sigh of relief, letting my eyes take in the gold and royal purple accents shimmering in the candle light.  
“Wow.” I whisper out loud, taking in everything around me. Meanwhile, Papa carefully places my candle on his desk, removes his cloak and smooths his cassock. He sidles up to me with a smile, running his fingers through his dark hair.  
“May I, Sister?”, he asks reaching out to take my cloak.   
“Thank you,” I say as he removes it, revealing my floor length, black tunic and scapular. I watch his eyes scan my form from head to toe. The interruptive thought of all the beautiful women he has likely laid eyes on pops into my brain, making me feel momentarily self conscious. My eyes also wander over his slim figure, noting how he too dresses modestly, only his face and neck showing exposed flesh. Perhaps we are not so different. He cocks his head and a sly smile grows across his face, seemingly aware of my inner dialogue.   
“There is no need to feel guarded, dear Sister. Not only do I find your modesty a bold expression of your devotion, but also quite alluring.”

He saunters toward me again and slips my hands into his leather clad grasp. He brings my right hand to his lips.  
“Your flesh is as cold as death himself,” he chuckles. He holds the back my my hand to his cheek and gazes at me. I can feel my chest tingle with excitement. He wraps his arm around my shoulders and leads me to the fireplace.

“Warm yourself Sister.” I kneel in front of the fire and extend my hands. He sits himself directly behind me, pressing his chest to my back. His hands start to gently stroke their way from my shoulders, down my arms, my back, then around my waist. I can feel him wanting to explore other places, but he hesitates. Consent is extremely important in the eyes of Satan, and must be given without question.   
I lean back over my left shoulder and whisper, “You may.”  
Immediately, his hands greedily run over my body, paying most attention to my breasts and thighs, giving them gentle squeezes. I give out a surprised sigh at the sensual pleasure. My nipples are hard not only from the cold, but also from arousal. His fingers linger there, teasing me. Soon he lifts away my scapular and begins to unbutton the top of my tunic. He slips a hand inside, and the feeling of soft leather on my bare nipples is overwhelming.   
I moan out loud from his gentle pinches and strokes, taming my nipples into even firmer knots.   
I lean back into him, feeling the warmth of his body and breathing him in completely. The intoxicating scent of incense is now much stronger, evoking images of the swinging censer. 

His hand leaves my tunic and tips my chin into a deep kiss. This time I readily open my mouth, accepting his advances. His lips leave mine and start exploring down my neck and opened tunic, sucking at licking at my sensitive flesh. He turns me to face him, grasping my shoulders.  
“Would you like to share with me your Satan given form?”  
“I would, Papa...as..as long as you will also share yourself.”  
“Yesss,” he growls and leans back. He allows me to unbutton his cassock and slip it from his chest and arms. Smooth, pale flesh is revealed, obvious it rarely sees the sun. A detailed tattoo of Lucifer sits regally on his left bicep. I trace the design with my fingers and I kiss it.   
He gives me a satisfied grunt and strokes my back while I allow my mouth to wander over his bare neck and chest. “Your turn, Sister,” he purrs.  
I stand in front of the fire and completely undress. I unbutton the rest of my tunic, letting it drop to the floor. Only my panties remain along with my beloved silver grucifix hanging between my breasts. I gaze at my Papa leaning on his left arm, laying on the floor, cassock around his waist.   
“All those things that you desire, you will find here in the fire,” he whispers. He stands and presses his bare chest to mine. Still wearing the leather gloves, he strokes and fondles me while nibbling my bottom lip. His hand begins trailing down, toying with my panties. I suck in a breath and feel my body tense. The last time anyone had pleasured me was before I entered the Church, and I am suddenly filled with anxiety.

Papa stops, realizing my change in attitude. He takes me by the hand and leads me to the couch at the foot of the nearby bed, sitting me squarely on his lap. “Are you alright my little Ghuleh?” His leather clad fingers running up and down my back.   
“Yes..I’m... I’m just nervous. It’s been a long time since I have shared myself with anyone.” I can feel my cheeks suddenly grow warm.  
I have had many lovers in my previous life, both male and female. Sex wasn’t foreign to me and I was far from a virgin. But since entering the Church, my focus has been on Satan and my education, not messing around. My own fingers and fantasies had been enough to satisfy my carnal desires as they arose without the complication of another person and their feelings. 

Papa raises an eyebrow, curiosity obviously piqued.  
“Has it? Have none of the brothers and sisters of Sin caught your eye?” I averted my gaze. I had pleasured myself to the thought of many in my clergy, including Papa himself. Admittedly frequently. I swallowed my embarrassment.   
“As I said before, I prefer to keep my desires private.”  
“I can appreciate that, Sister. Will you allow me to indulge you? You can trust your Papa, you know.” He traced small circles over my knee and stroked my lower back.  
“I know.” I say knowingly with a partial smile.   
“Well then, Sister. I saw what you were moved to do in the forest earlier. Show me how you express these private desires.” He looks intensely into my eyes, not allowing me to break his gaze; obviously taking pleasure in eliciting my girlish shame. My cheeks flush again, but arousal quickly overtakes any hesitation.   
“If it brings you pleasure, Papa,” I rasp. He grasps my wrists tightly, almost painfully.  
“More than you know.” he growls. 

PART VI

He lets go and I ease myself from his lap, draping myself in the corner of the couch. I let my hand slide down my body and begin to touch myself through my soaked panties. I press my fingers into myself through the cotton and stroke slowly, giving a soft moan. The sly smile begins to form at the corner of his mouth. I notice his breathing getting deeper and faster as he watches me, as well as the outline of his erection through his cassock. The sight of his excitement sends fire down my body, forcing another whimper from deep in my throat. 

“Show yourself to your Papa.” he coos from across the couch.

I swallow nervously, unsure what he will think of me. I slip off my panties and resume my display of self pleasure, now feeling just how wet and sensitive I was. I close my eyes and let my head drop back to the pillow below me, reveling in the pleasure.  
“Show me,” he growls sternly. I pause a moment, surprised at his forcefulness but obey. I open my legs for his full view. I gently part my lips and allow a finger to slip into myself. I can feel gushes of fluid rolling down my body onto the couch.   
“Dear Satan... ” he hisses, his eyes fixed on my busy fingers. My pace begins to quicken and I can feel an orgasm start to build.   
Likely sensing my impending climax, he crawls on his hands and knees across the couch and interrupts me with a lusty kiss.   
“May I?” he asks, eyes burning. I let out a shuttered sign and nod.   
He brings each of his hands to his mouth and dramatically pulls off the leather gloves with his teeth, casting them to the floor. He pulls my hand up from between my legs and seductively runs his tongue over my index and middle fingers before thrusting them into his mouth. I can hear a low rumble in his throat as he gently sucks them. 

He slowly runs his free hand down my body, still nibbling at my fingertips. His gaze is fixed on me, eager for my reaction. Eventually, his fingers find their destination, sending shivers through my body. Very gently, he parts me and begins to rhythmically glide and circle over my lips, placing light pressure on my clit with his thumb.   
A breathy exhale escapes my lips and I shudder under his touch. He hums in approval and the devious smile begins to curl at his lips.   
He leans into me again and rasps, “Time for your Confession, Sister! How long has it been since someone has...tasted you?” I feel my cheeks get hot at such a lewd question. My lower lip quivers trying to find an appropriate answer. His devious smile grows into a mischievous grin, dropping my hand and seeking out one of my bare breasts. His other hand continues the rhythmic strokes and circles, gradually adding more pressure, bringing me closer. 

With burning eyes fixed on mine, he leans down and places a soft kiss on one of my nipples, forcing me to suck in a breath. He opens his mouth and his tongue begins to lap, making me to moan out loud. Eventually his teasing eases into a gentle suckle, causing my clit to throb under his thumb. I’m on the verge of orgasm and I know what it will take me over the edge. 

I reach down and tug at his dark locks, causing him to release my nipple from his mouth.   
I try to tell him what I want, but the words get caught in my throat for a moment, not knowing how to ask him to finish me.  
“Is there something you want, Sister?” he asks through the devious grin, cruelly placing more pressure on my clit.   
“Ye...yess...pleeassee…” Again he cocks his head and raises an eyebrow playfully, knowing fair well what I was likely going to request. He obviously derived great pleasure watching me writhe under his touch and my own embarrassment.   
“Go on…” He cooed.  
“Lick me. Make me cum,” I finally blurt in between moans, squeezing my eyes shut. I can feel him almost violently pull his hands away from my body and sit up on his knees. I open my eyes, startled. His devious expression suddenly dropped into one of disapproval, yanking me from my delirious ecstasy. I suddenly feel very vulnerable. 

He severely gazes at me for a moment, then thrusts his hand between my legs, pinching my clit between his thumb and index finger. I let out a stifled yelp of combined shock and pleasure. He growls, “Naughty Sister, asking her Papa for such acts! Is that how you were taught to address me?” His eyes burn but his smile betrays him. Realizing his game, I relax a bit.   
I narrow my eyes defiantly and rock my hips into his hand, “Please lick me, Papa. Give me the pleasure of the Dark Lord.” I too crack a devious smile.   
He increases the pressure on my aching clit and furrows his eyebrows.  
“That’s more like it,” he says firmly through his teeth and maneuvers his head between my legs. 

I let out a cry when the warmth of his tongue slides over my lips. He parts me with this fingers, taking a moment to observe the task at hand, then once again locks eyes with me. He begins to work his tongue over me in steady waves, being careful not to overstimulate me too quickly. He presses his mouth entirely over me, thrusting his tongue deep inside, forcing me to buck my hips. I can feel the vibration of a low moan as he tastes me, tongue curling and writhing. I grab onto his dark locks, pulling him in deeper. His tongue returns to my clit, circling and lapping. When he achieves the perfect pressure and rhythm, I gasp, “Just like that! Don’t...stop…” He viciously grabs my thighs and holds onto me tightly, growling like a hungry animal devouring its prey. I pull at his hair and squeeze my eyes shut as I near climax. I cry out loud and grind into his face as waves of pleasure begin radiating over my body in an intense orgasm. I can feel his tongue let up pressure and his laps slow as my body relaxes. He lifts his mouth from me and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. 

“Well, well Sister. For being so modest you certainly seem to know what you like.” His sly smile returns and raises an eyebrow mischievously. “How are you feeling?”  
I sigh, relishing in the moment, throwing my hands up behind my head. “Hail Satan, I feel...amazing.”  
He leans in and kisses me. I can taste myself on his lips, sending renewed arousal between my legs.   
“Is there anything...else that you might like?” He begins to stroke himself through the cassock, vulgarly licking his lips. “However fair and pure, you crave the wand.”  
I breathily reply with the next line of the prayer, “I am the one lascivious.”  
I reach over and meet his hand, gliding the soft material over his firm erection. He grimaces and bites his lip as I stroke him. I unbutton the remainder of his cassock and gently free him, making him shudder and groan. I spend a few moments stroking him, feeling his body heave with each of my movements. Beads of pre-ejaculate form at the tip, warning me of his impending end.

He suddenly grabs my wrist and stops me. “Not too quickly, Sister. I have other plans for you,” he sneers. He stands and pulls me up with with him with a jerk. He pushes me around the bedpost and tosses me onto his bed. I fall back with a yelp of surprise, eager for his next move. I watch him strip off the remainder of his vestments and smooth his hair back, shooting me a glance of satisfaction. 

PART VII

He climbs onto the bed and directly over me, meeting me with a kiss and a firm cup of one of my breasts. He cradles the back of my head in one of his hands and peers deep into my eyes. Tingles of excitement well up in my chest. His expression softens, breaking character for a moment.   
“I know you have given me every sign, but I must know before I lose myself in you. Is this alright?” He searches my face for an answer. I nod and kiss his cheek.  
“What about...protection?” he timidly asks. My reflexive giggle obviously surprises him and he furrows his brow, somewhat annoyed that I am not taking his inquires seriously.  
“We have nothing to worry about. I insisted on getting an implant before entering the church.” I touch my lower abdomen. “One can never be too careful.” An expression of relief washes over his face.   
“You think of everything, Sister.” He leans in kisses me passionately, forcing his tongue into my mouth. He breaks the kiss and furrows his brow once more. “Are you completely sure?” he asks.   
“Yes. I’m comfortable.” I crack a smile, reaching up to replace some his raven locks behind his ear. The devious expression returns to his face .  
“So then, Sister, let us continue your confession... how long has it been since someone has fucked you?” He roughly forces my legs open, making me squeak in surprise. Despite my forwardness just a few minutes ago, his obscene language and gesture catches me off guard, leaving me unable to answer. He gently spreads me with his fingers and rubs my clit with his thumb, filling me with lust and embarrassment. An approving hum rumbles in his throat.   
“You are saturated! Are you ready for your Papa already?” he hisses in my ear, causing me to shudder.   
Before I can reply, he gently inserts his middle finger into me, slowly pumping in and out. I bite my lip.  
“Hmmm. Almost…” he hisses, adding his index finger. I moan at the sensation of being filled, digging my nails into his arm.   
“Tell me, Sister, is this what you want?” he taunts.   
“I...I...want you...please...I’m ready…” I gasp in between his insertions. 

He pulls his fingers from my body, rears up on his knees, and strokes himself for a moment. His eyes greedily taking in my naked body lying before him. He once again positions himself over top of me, face to face, one hand pressing over mine.  
“Just...start slowly...please. It has been awhile…” I gasp in between breaths of anticipation. He kisses me on the forehead.  
“Of course, Sister…”

PART VIII

He grasps himself and playfully glides the tip of his erection over me, pressing into my clit, making me whimper. Finally, he places himself and and enters slowly. The pressure of him inside me feels intense, a strange mixture of pleasure and pain. I bite my lip and moan.   
He slowly slides in and out, giving me some time to adjust to his size. He shutters and gasps, “Oh...Sister it has been sometime. Dear Satan…” He slowly increases his depth and builds his pace. I can see beads of sweat form on his forehead and his teeth clenching in pleasure. 

My body relaxes through his gentle thrusts, discomfort melting away into pleasure. I start to rhythmically thrust my hips to match his pace. He lets go of my hand and positions himself on his knees, grabbing my thighs, pushing them back. He pridefully watches himself pump in and out of me and begins to circle my clit with this thumb. The sensation teases me and I bat his hand away, replacing it with my own. I lock eyes with him, slightly ashamed as I rub myself and buck under his movements. His surprised expression quickly dissolves into lust.   
“Is my cock not enough for you, you insatiable demoness?” he growls through his teeth, thrusting harder into me. I sneer at him defiantly, and spread myself for his full view. I lick my index finger and place it on the tip of my clit and continue to pleasure myself.   
“Fuck…” he growls again watching me, “You are truly Lucifer’s mistress,” He continues squeezing my thighs and heaving into me. I can feel myself building again.   
“You’re...going to..make me cum,” I gasp through his thrusts. He grins and pushes harder. I finally reach the summit of pleasure and scream, tightening in waves over him. He grunts and watches me writhe under him, seeming to enjoy every moment, not letting up his pace. 

He pulls out of me and grasps me by my hair. Before I can catch my breath, I find my mouth filled with him, pushing into the back of my throat. He pulls me back and I gasp for breath.   
“Think you can handle more, demoness?” he hisses, roughly pulling my head back.   
“If Satan shall allow it,” I spit back. He lets go of my hair and I return to him, gliding my mouth up and down and dancing my tongue over the head. He throws his head back and moans. I place a hand at the base of his shaft and continue to suck and lick. I can feel his hips begin to rise and his body quiver. He grabs my hair again and pulls me from him. He pushes me onto my hands and knees, my bare rear facing him. I look back at him over my shoulder.  
“Lucifer truly blessed you,” he chuckles gazing at me. He gives my rump a firm slap and I yelp at the sting. He grasps my waist and presses himself into me, popping in with a rock of his hips. We moan out loud in unison at the sensation. I push myself back onto him, taking him as deep as he will go. He leans over my back and kisses my neck.   
“I’m not sure how much more I can take...I may lose control…” he breathily confides.   
“Fuck me, Papa,” I rasp, looking back over my shoulder. My demands seem to feed his lust and he suddenly takes off at a maddening pace, pumping mercilessly into me. His depth presses into my g-spot, making me see stars. My fingers return to my clit, furiously pressing and rubbing. I can hear him growling and grunting behind me, approaching climax. 

He suddenly drops down over my back, chest pressing into my shoulders. His hand searches for my breast and begins to gently pinch my nipple. I throw my head back at the sensation and he nibbles and sucks at my earlobe. He breathlessly whispers, “You’re going to make your Papa cum, you filthy girl.” His words make my clit throb and I tighten myself over him. 

He bucks into me, as deep as he can push, pressing his shuttering form to my back. “FUCK!” he yells out, followed by a deep, guttural moan. I arch my back in response and I can feel his hot semen spilling inside of me. I press my fingers into my clit, forcing one last orgasm to match his spasms. I cry out and squirm underneath him, my legs and arms buckling in exhaustion. 

PART IX

We both fall onto the bed in a heap of sweat and gasping breaths. Passion still glowing inside of me, I turn to look at him. His gaze meets mine, and something passes between us, causing me to shutter. He reaches out and strokes my hair, making me sigh. My eyes start to grow heavy. 

The chiming of great clock cuts through the darkness, startling us both. Midnight. I suddenly sit up, remembering why all this happened in the first place. I slip from the bed and find my candle still sitting on his desk. I pick it up and walk to the window, peering up at the full moon and into the glittering sky. 

I whisper.  
“Satanas, I stand here in solidarity with you, the Morning Star. May your light guide us.” I take a deep breath and whisper the prayer, “Come together, together as one…”   
“For Lucifer’s son,” he whispers into my ear, making me jump. I turn to him and he grasps the candle, hands over mine.   
“Hail Satan,” he whispers and gently kisses my lips.   
Standing naked before our Dark Lord, we murmur our prayer into the dark.


End file.
